


like a hero

by TMOTC



Series: family ties [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: BAMF Sawada Tsunayoshi, Gen, in which endeavor is fcking annihilated, mentions of abuse, mentions of marital rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMOTC/pseuds/TMOTC
Summary: In which Sawada Tsunayoshi visits a hospital, tries not to commit murder, and proceeds to adopt the Todorokis into his family.





	like a hero

**Author's Note:**

> the au we all needed

It takes Tsuna casting one long look over his Guardians at the dinner table to decide that maybe, _maybe_ they need a break.

The past few years have been taxing. Ever since Tsuna properly took up the mantle of Vongola Decimo, he and his Guardians were entrusted with the harrowing task of reworking the bloody mess that Vongola had become over the past few hundred years into the vigilante group it was supposed to be. All members of their famiglia had to be re-evaluated, not only to test their loyalty to Vongola Decimo and his new rule, but to ensure they weren’t running around, targeting people who just so _happened_ to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, or weren’t needlessly causing carnage—emphasis on _needlessly._

On a scale of villain to hero _,_ Vongola is definitely smack-dab in the middle.

Another look at his Guardians, who’re looking more restless as the days pass _,_ reminds Tsuna that their precious scale of “smack-dab in the middle” would change for the worse if they didn’t stop and, for the first time in nearly four years, actually _take a break._

“So.” Tsuna’s voice, just a pitch above his normal speech, almost immediately grabs everyone’s attention. Tsuna smiles, making sure to hold everyone’s gaze as he says, “I was thinking we should go back to Japan.”

The Guardians are, expectedly, explosive in their response.

“Do we have another mission?” Lambo asks excitedly, looking more lively than he’s been these past couple of months. “Can we see maman again?!”

“Idiot, of course it’s a mission!” Gokudera chucks a spoon at Lambo over the table, eliciting an indignant cry. Tsuna sends him a warning look—he’s already had a talk with Gokudera about toning down his aggression when it came to Lambo, who is young and a brat but most certainly doesn’t _need_ violence to reinforce good behaviour—which Gokudera reads with a wince. He mouths a quiet apology before saying, “Tenth would never waste our time like that!”

Yamamoto pats Gokudera’s shoulder from his place beside him. To his credit, he barely flinches when Gokudera directs his scathing glare at him. “Maa, maa, no need to be so harsh. I’d like to visit my father again too.”

“For the last time, it’s obviously a mission, so we’re not going to waste our time—”

“Actually,” Tsuna intervenes, smiling wryly, “I was proposing a break. We can definitely visit mom and Tsuyoshi-san.” Seeing the way Ryohei noticeably perks up—a vivid contrast to his deep eye bags and his overall uncharacteristically fatigued countenance—Tsuna carefully adds, “Kyoko, too.”

Ryohei’s fists slam onto the table as he shoots up from his seat, stance wide and beaming with energy. The plates rattle. “YEAH!”

“Ow! I’m right beside you, idiot!”

“Sorry, Lambo!”

“Ugh.”

Unable to hide his widening grin, Tsuna finally turns to Chrome and Hibari, who have been silent throughout the entire exchange. “What do you think?”

Chrome smiles meekly, though she doesn’t shy away. It’s definitely a step-up from her early days as a Guardian. “Japan is nice,” she says, and Tsuna smiles in relief. If Chrome gave the O.K., then Mukuro, who’d been sent to deal with forging an alliance with a newborn famiglia earlier that day, definitely wouldn’t have any problems at all.

Tsuna is grateful for their unbreakable bond every day.

Hibari’s answer is as expected; he visits Namimori at least twice a month with Kusakabe, just so he can keep in touch with his precious hometown. “I do not mind,” he says, steel grey eyes smothering.

“Thanks, Hibari.”

“I expect double the amount of spars in exchange for wasting my time with such a useless question.”

Tsuna, to his credit, doesn’t so much as blink. “Of course, Hibari.”

With the overall positive consensus of his Guardians, Tsuna just needed someone to take care of Vongola while they’re away. It’ll probably be Basil, or—

“Ciassou.”

Tsuna immediately ducks under the bullet aimed at his head. It lodges into the wall behind him, ruining the paint, but not the structure itself. Reinforced walls are truly a thing of the future. “Reborn,” he says, decidedly unrattled. “You’re late.”

The now-pubescent-looking Reborn slips Leon back into his suit. “Had some business to take care of.” His expression is unreadable. “I need to talk to you later.”

Tsuna stiffens. He sits up straighter, clasping his fingers over the table. His plate has long since been pushed aside. “How important?”

Reborn’s way too convenient fedora shades his eyes. “It concerns your family.”

Family.

Tsuna frowns.

It can’t be his mother, who’s living in the safety of Namimori, dispatched members of Vongola watching over her for their boss’ sake, nor his father whom, as far as Tsuna is aware, has pretty much dropped off the face of the earth. Since the rest of his family (his Guardians and everyone within Vongola, of course) resides in the Vongola compound with him, it can only be one person.

Endeavor.

The Number Two Hero.

The man who, being Tsuna’s half-brother, would have been Vongola Decimo, had he not wanted to become a hero—had he been _quirkless,_ like Tsuna, his Guardians, and everyone else who’s been able to activate their Flames.

_Todoroki Enji._

Tsuna stands. He tugs the _Mantello di Vongola Primo,_ which he’d come to wear on a daily basis, over his shoulders. “Finish without me,” he says to his Guardians, who’ve stopped talking to listen to him and Reborn speak. “Please try not to break the dining table again.”

At the reaffirming nods, Tsuna hurries to follow his old mentor.

* * *

Tsuna stares blankly at Reborn from his side of the desk. His fingers are wrapped around the armrest of his massive chair, tensed and clammy. Tsuna is pretty sure he’s made a dent. “My brother’s wife is in a hospital.”

“Yes.”

“Because she threw boiling water at her youngest son.”

“Yes.”

“And it was speculated to be reflexive,” Tsuna continues, voice tight, “because her son looked too much like _her husband.”_

Reborn pauses. “Not speculated, actually. That is the official statement.” His eyes darken. “The _hidden_ official statement, anyway.”

Tsuna screws his eyes shut. He runs a hand through his hair, the other grasping at the armrest in a deathgrip, before forcing himself to loosen. He cannot be a hypocrite and break his own things when he all but demanded his Guardians not to. “Am I right to assume,” he murmurs, “that Todoroki hasn’t been treating his family well?”

Reborn pins Tsuna with a cool stare. “Maybe you should find out yourself.”

Tsuna nods stiffly.

So they go to Japan, where his brother lives, and proceed to find out if his brother is the abusive bastard that Tsuna is suspecting him to be.

So much for a break.

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Tsuna says, standing from his seat. “Basil will be taking care of things for us.

Reborn smirks. “You want me to come.”

Tsuna smiles.

Coldly.

“Someone might need to stop me from killing a hero in cold blood.”

* * *

The psychiatric ward is nice-looking enough. It’s tall, and people are tumbling out the doors every other minute, but it’s, well…

A psychiatric ward.

Which is no place a family member of his should be staying for, according to the files his scouts have gathered, an undetermined amount of time _._

Code for _the rest of her life._

Tsuna grits his teeth.

“Reborn,” he says. “Maybe you should—”

Reborn is nonplussed. “I’ll stay outside.” He gives the building another long once-over. “It would be best not to overwhelm her.”

“Right.” Tsuna manages to crack a smile. “If anyone suspicious tries to come in—”

“I’ll deal with them, idiot student.”

Tsuna inhales. He adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves, and then his necktie. “Thanks.”

He walks into the ward. At the front desk, one of the receptionists is busy typing away at the computer, the other organizing files near the back of their little space. He walks up to them.

“Excuse me,” he says. “I’m Sawada Tsu—”

“S-Sawada-sama.” The receptionist’s eyes are wide. She quickly ducks her head, hastily placing the visitor’s pass on the desk. “You’re looking for Room 209.” Her voice lowers, and she keeps her head down as she says, “Todoroki-san wasn’t told about your visit, so please refrain from causing her unnecessary stress.”

Tsuna smiles politely. At least the staff seem to be pretty nice. “Of course.” He pauses, glancing to the side. He stares at his reflection in the window. “Do you think she would be… distressed as I am now?”

The receptionist takes a painfully long time to life her head. Even then, she doesn’t meet his eyes. “M-maybe you should take off the jacket. It looks a little uptight.” She sucks in a sharp breath. “Not that you look—”

Tsuna laughs. “No, no, I get it.” He takes off his jacket, wrapping it around his arm. He considers the visitor’s pass on the desk for a moment. “Would you terribly mind if I switched the pass for a volunteer ID?”

The receptionist furrows her brows, pursing her lips. “M-may I ask why?”

Tsuna smiles pleasantly. “She might receive me better if I didn’t seem like a random visitor.”

“Oh.” She fidgets, awkwardly adjusting her glasses. “It’ll take a bit to set that up.”

“Don’t worry.” Tsuna drapes his jacket over his shoulder and absently starts rolling up his sleeves. “Todoroki-san isn’t going anywhere.” He flashes her a disarming smile, which the receptionist takes in with wary acceptance.

Not yet, anyway.

* * *

Tsuna makes it to Room 209 with little issue. Although a couple doctors and nurses give him strange looks on the way, they leave him alone upon seeing his volunteer ID. His name, under the pseudonym _Sawada Ieyasu,_ is etched neatly under his freshly taken photo.

Tsuna is decidedly unconcerned about giving away his identity. By the time Tsuna’s visit is over, any information about “Sawada Ieyasu” would be deleted from the hospital’s database, and even then, no one except the hospital’s head staff (who are already in Vongola’s pocket) would be given access to what little data was currently stored.

His pseudonym is just a precaution anyway. No one, aside from a select few, knows about Vongola Decimo’s true identity.

The vigilante business is tough like that.

Tsuna stares at the plaque beside the door. It has _209_ etched onto it, but the name is missing.

Either Todoroki-san was admitted very recently, or this is just a temporary room.

Tsuna has a feeling it’s both.

He knocks gently on the door. There’s a long period of silence before Tsuna knocks again, this time more firmly.

“...come in.”

The voice is soft and so, so frail.

Tsuna inhales deeply. He twists the handle, and opens it slowly. He stays at the doorway, observing the woman sitting on the bed carefully.

Todoroki-san is so, so frail.

“Hello,” Tsuna says, voice soft as when he would speak to his mother on her bad days, back when she’d still been married to Iemitsu and blamed herself for things that Tsuna, even now, still doesn’t understand. “May I come in?”

The woman is frighteningly still for several beats. Her beautiful grey eyes are cloudy, puffy from both crying and lack of sleep, and her hair is a mess of white and premature grey.

Stress, Tsuna deduces. Among many other things.

“...are you allowed to?”

Tsuna smiles patiently. He drapes his jacket over the back of the visitor’s chair before sinking into it himself. He points at his ID. “Yes. I was told to get to know the patients around here.”

“I know everyone else here pretty well,” he continues, lying easily through his teeth, “but I don’t know you. What’s your name?”

She looks away, blinking rapidly. “I… ” She shakes her head, arms wrapping around her stomach defensively. “Sorry, I—”

“You don’t have to,” Tsuna says, consolingly. “My name’s Sawada. Sawada Ieyasu.” He smiles disarmingly. “Call me whatever you want.”

“Sawada,” the young woman _(how young is she?)_ murmurs to herself. “...nice name.”

“Thank you,” Tsuna says, laughing softly. He leans back in his seat, placing clasped hands over his lap. “So… pardon me if this seems forward, but can I give you a nickname?” When the woman casts him an incredulous look, Tsuna smiles warmly. “I don’t want to call you ‘you’ or ‘miss’ all the time. ‘You’ is pretty rude, and ‘miss’ seems too stiff.”

“...okay.”

Tsuna closes his eyes. This woman deserves a good name, even if it is temporary. She’s clearly unwilling to give out her real name, and no way in all of Mukuro’s seven hells is he going to call her _Todoroki_ to her face.

He opens his eyes.

“Nara,” he says.

The woman’s brows furrow, but her shoulders relax a little bit. “Like… like a basin?”

Tsuna shakes his head. _Happy._

He means happy.

Something that he hopes she’ll be one day, even if it won’t be anytime soon.

“It’s of Greek origin,” he says, as a means of explanation, and the woman nods.

“Nara,” she repeats, the slightest bit of colour returning to her cheeks, a little bit of light returning to her eyes. _“Nara.”_

Tsuna smiles.

* * *

He visits Nara the next day.

And the day after that.

Then the day after _that._

By the end of the week, Reborn is a little exasperated.

“Idiot student,” he says, “we don’t have the time for this. All your Guardians have already left Namimori—you have to come home soon.”

Tsuna winces. “I know.” He adjusts his hold on his cup of coffee, leaning back against his chair. They’re in the living space of the massive suite they’d rented out, where Reborn has been doing most of his “extra research” on Endeavor—in other words, stalking him and his family from the safety of their temporary HQ, gathering and recording even more discriminating evidence against him. Tsuna doesn’t know how or when Reborn went about planting bugs, but he doesn’t plan on asking anytime soon.

Reborn’s always been something of a cryptic.

“I’m gonna be late.” Tsuna downs the coffee, ignoring the burn. “We’ll be going back to Italy by Sunday, I swear.” Just in time for Tsuna’s weekly dinners with his Guardians.

That’s one less excuse to be bitten to death _._

“With Todoroki-san?”

“With Nara and her kids,” Tsuna corrects. “Well, the ones who want to come, anyway.” Reborn has long since discovered and informed Tsuna that the two eldest sons were shipped off to their grandparents since their mother’s departure, and were apparently quite happy where they were—the only reason why Tsuna would be taking the remaining Todorokis with him, especially Nara and her youngest son, is because he wants to create as much distance between them and Endeavor as possible. They’re in desperate need of a new environment, and it’ll help with the healing process.

Tsuna stands from the table, ignoring his suit jacket in favour of a black trench coat, which he plans on leaving open. He’ll look “less uptight” this way, as the receptionist had put it.

He also just really, _really_ misses remotely casual clothing.  His job as Vongola Decimo had stripped a lot of comforts in his life, and clothing choice was definitely one of the first things to go.

“Tsuna.”

Tsuna freezes.

Reborn never calls him that.

“Yes?”

“Those kids.” Reborn pauses. He tilts his fedora, Leon bowing his little head to match. “...just hurry up. The faster they’re out of there, the better.”

Tsuna nods solemnly. “Right.”

He leaves their suite. On the way, he calls the ward.

“Hello?” A haste, albeit painfully polite greeting is given in response. “This is Sawada. I would like to make a request…”

* * *

Nara is looking at him with painfully wide eyes. “A-are you sure?” Her hands clench into painfully tight fists. Tsuna wouldn’t be surprised if she left marks. “They’re allowing me to go out?”

“Just in the courtyard behind the hospital,” Tsuna says. “You have to stay in the wheelchair, though, and I’m not allowed to let you leave my sight.”

Nara nods slowly. “It’s… it’s more than I could ever hope for.” She bows her head. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

“No worries.” _We’re family._ “Now let’s go out before the doctor changes her mind.”

“Okay.”

Although Tsuna brings the wheelchair over, he doesn’t dare try to help Nara into it. She’s extremely wary of touch— _freaking Enji—_ and Tsuna doesn’t feel like needlessly scaring her.

Tsuna wheels her out. The hallways are surprisingly empty, so they make it to the ground floor with little issue. The receptionists wave idly at them as they pass, the one who Tsuna had spoken with when he’d first arrived smiling, relief clear as day in her eyes.

Tsuna smiles back. He had kept his promise.

It’s cool outside, but not painfully so. Tsuna had already given Nara a sweater, courtesy of the kind nurses, yet in the slight winds and single digit temperature, Nara looks as though the elements would sweep her away.

She’s too frail. Especially for a mother of four.

_Freaking Enji._

“Did you notice?” Nara murmurs, startling Tsuna out of his thoughts. “No one was in the hallway.”

Tsuna nods, even though, even though she wouldn’t see him from their position. “Strange, huh?”

“Yeah,” Nara says. “Did you know?”

“Hmm?”

“All the patients in my floor were moved,” she says. “And the nurses and doctors… I hear them talk, sometimes, when they think I’m asleep, or high on drugs.”

Tsuna slows his movement.

“They’re scared of you,” she says. “They say your word has a lot of sway with the higher-ups.”

Tsuna completely stops. His hands rest on the handles. “And?” He delicately asks. “What are your thoughts?”

“...”

Tsuna leaves his place behind the wheelchair. He stops in front of Nara, and kneels so they’d be on eye-level. “I won’t hold anything you say against you.” He presses a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

Nara raises her head. Her grey eyes are cloudy from tears. “The way the doctors and nurses are talking—I should be scared of you, shouldn’t I?” The tears are falling freely now. “So why aren’t I scared of you?”

Tsuna stares. He’d been expecting a bunch of not-so-unfounded accusations, spun to life by the no-doubt countless rumours the staff and other patients might have spurned.

Not that.

“I don’t know,” Tsuna says. “I—” He sucks in a breath. “Nara, can I tell you something?”

She nods hesitantly.

“I want to get you out of here.” Silence. “You and your kids.”

He watches Nara inhale shakily. There’re questions written all over her face—mostly along the lines of _how do you know I have kids? ,_ and, _why do you know so much about me?_

“Oh,” she chokes out instead.

“And.” Tsuna smiles wryly. He clasps his hands over his knees. “My name is really Sawada Tsunayoshi. Not Sawada Ieyasu.” Pause. “I’m your brother-in-law.”

_“...oh.”_

Tsuna smiles weakly.

Oh, indeed.

* * *

Nara takes it all better than Tsuna thought she would. Explaining Vongola to her, his relation to her husband, and his intent—she listens attentively, nodding at the appropriate cues and asking questions at her leisure. If it weren’t for her trembles and her puffy eyes, Tsuna would have thought she wasn’t affected at all.

“I know this is a lot,” Tsuna says, scratching the back of his head. “But I’m due to go home—to Italy—really soon, and I’m not leaving without you and your kids.”

Nara inhales shakily. “Is it really alright?”

“Pardon?”

Nara’s stare is sharp. “You know what I did. You have the files, don’t you?” Tears well up in her eyes again. She hastily wipes them away. “I hurt him.” She trembles, hugging herself in a vain attempt to make the tremors stop. _“I hurt my baby.”_

Tsuna tries very, very hard not to wrap her in a smothering hug. God knows she needs it. “I know,” he says. “But your son will only hurt more, the more you stay away.” He raises a hand, intending on squeezing her hand, but he stops himself. _Don’t intimidate her more than you already have._ “We have doctors. Therapists.” All of whom are entrusted with ensuring the mental states of all members of Vongola. If anyone could help Nara, it would be them. “They’ll help you, and give you the go when you’re ready to speak to your son.”

Nara is wide-eyed. “I don’t deserve this,” she says, choking up. She’s squeezing the armrest of her wheelchair tightly, not unlike Tsuna in his office when he had first been informed about the situation. “I really don’t deserve this.”

Tsuna isn’t having it. “After all you went through?” Being forced into marriage because of her quirk, forced to conceive to sate her husband’s goals (“It’s fucking _rape,”_ he had ranted to Reborn, when the hitman had first grimly informed him about it), and—god, he doesn’t even want to imagine how it all must have affected her relationship with her kids.

She’d been so scared of her husband that she’d thrown boiling water at her youngest son, not because she loathed and despised him for being a reminder of all the grief she had gone through, but because _he resembled Endeavor too much._

Freaking.

_Enji._

“You deserve to heal,” Tsuna tells Nara firmly. “And you deserve to stay in your children’s lives, just as they deserve to have a healthy mother.”

“Right,” Nara croaks. “Right. J-just—would you promise me something?”

Tsuna nods. “Of course.”

Nara reaches out to him, encasing one of his hands with two of her own. Tsuna barely stops himself from jolting in surprise.

“Please,” she whispers. “Don’t ever, _ever_ let me hurt my kids again.”

Tsuna nods firmly. She didn’t even have to ask. “Which is why,” he can’t help but say, “you’re coming with me to Italy.” So she’ll heal.

So she’ll never see her horrible husband in her kids ever again.

Nara smiles. She bows her head, tears pouring down her cheeks in steady streams.

It’s heartbreaking.

* * *

Reborn smirks at Tsuna when he arrives to the suite, the young woman in tow. She’s holding a bag of her meagre belongings, and glancing around everywhere in something akin to awe.

Like she couldn’t believe she was outside.

That would have to be rectified soon.

“Reborn,” Tsuna says. “Did you get my text?”

“Yes, Dame-Tsuna.” Damn. It’s been a while since he heard that one. “Kyoko and Yamamoto will be coming to escort her by tomorrow morning.”

Tsuna nods. Kyoko will probably arrive first, living closer and all. “Good.” He turns to Nara, gesturing to Reborn. “Nara, this is Reborn, my mentor and advisor. Reborn, this is Nara.”

“Ciaossu.” Reborn tilts his fedora. “Welcome to the family. You won’t be able to escape.”

_“Reborn.”_

Nara, to her credit, seems to take the pre-teen looking hitman seriously. She bows lightly. “Thank you. I look forward to it.”

“That’s what they all say.”

_“Re-born.”_

“Shut up, idiot student. Nara—I’ll show you to your room.” Reborn gestures for Nara to follow, which she does with ease. With her back to Tsuna, Reborn sends Tsuna a look, all the while typing something on his phone.

When Nara and Reborn are out of sight, Tsuna whips out his phone. He stares at the message Reborn had sent, written in code.

_Endeavor’s got good sources. He’ll know his wife is missing from the hospital in a few hours._

_If you want to get her and her kids out of this country, you need to deal with Endeavor tonight_.

_Go wild._

_I don’t care if you kill him._

Tsuna huffs a laugh. He turns off his phone.

Blazing orange eyes stare back at him, bloodlust rushing through his veins.

No problem.

* * *

He sneaks into Endeavor’s agency with ease. Their security system is truly impressive—he expects nothing less from the Number Two Hero, but against Vongola’s security? Against _Vongola’s_ hackers?

It’s child’s play.

With the _Mantello di Vongola Primo_ draped around his shoulders, his gauntlets strapped over his hands, reeking distinctly of disinfectant and blood, and his black mask, etched with golden carvings of lions (a nod to Natsu), in place, Tsuna is ready when Endeavor walks into the office, slamming the door in his wake.

It’s impressive, the way Endeavor blazes when he finally catches sight of Tsuna lounging peacefully in Endeavor’s chair, legs propped up on the desk. As though he owned it.

(Tsuna _can_ own it.)

 _“Who the hell are you?”_ The man is all growls and muscles, veins popping in unconcealed irritation. Tsuna watches in amusement.

“Me?” He hops off the chair, leaping over the desk. Though Endeavor towers him, Tsuna _knows_ this man is weaker than him—thanks, Hyper Intuition. “I go by Decimo.” He leers. “You _do_ know about me, don’t you?”

“Vongola Decimo.” The man says, eye twitching. _“The most notorious vigilante.”_

Oh?

Is that what they call him now?

“I’d prefer ‘Number One Vigilante’,” Tsuna says. “Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it, _Number Two?”_

Enji’s flames turn blue.

Tsuna laughs. “Did I strike a nerve?”

_“What the hell do you want?”_

Tsuna eyes Endeavor with cool eyes. Through the mask, he knows they’re glowing a burning orange. “I’m usually amiable with heroes. There are quite a few who genuinely just want to help, and are every bit deserving of the praise they receive. All Might is a personal favourite of mine.” He smiles coldly—this, as well, isn’t covered by the mask. “Then there’s scum like you.”

A hurtle of flames is thrown in his direction. Tsuna jumps over it, his Dying Will Flames activating. They keep him hovering in the annoyingly high room.

Tsuna tsks. “On paper, you’re a wonderful hero. You’ve saved a lot of people, donated to a lot of charities. You’re Number Two for a reason.” He dodges another blast of flames, landing on the desk. The desk lamp shatters, crunching under the weight of his leather shoes; Tsuna merely kicks the remains in his half-brother’s direction.

Endeavor melts it, as expected.

“But really—” Tsuna leaps forward, arm drawn back.

Endeavor is met with a face-full of Sky Flames. Expectedly, he tumbles back, but Tsuna keeps _hitting,_ the flame above his head growing larger and larger.

“—you’re no better than a villain _after what you did to your wife.”_ His hands wrap around the base of Endeavor’s neck. Instead of strangling him, he lets his Flames burn steadily, _burning._ Endeavor chokes. _“To your kids.”_

Endeavor manages to throw him off. He huffs and heaves, spitting blood to the side. “Why would you care?” He snarls. “They’re not _yours.”_

By all means, his half-brother has every right to be confused, but Tsuna’s feeling a lot of things, and sympathy isn’t one of them. “They are now.”

“What—”

 _“My family._ They’re going to be _mine_ —” Like his Guardians, like Reborn, like _every last one of his precious people,_ “—and I’ll be protecting them from _you.”_

Tsuna lets his words settle in as he pounces once more, _burning burning burning._ Aside from letting his flames explode aimlessly, Tsuna doesn’t let Endeavor properly react, because Tsuna is faster and much, _much_ angrier. He hopes it reminds the man of All Might—how _puny_ he is, compared to the Symbol of Peace.

Tsuna almost laughs, but he can’t.

Not now.

He flicks blood off his gauntlets, staring down at the fallen form of the hero.

 _Definitely_ not now.

“I wish I could trap you in ice,” Tsuna murmurs, too low for the man to hear. “But I‘d rather keep you alive.”

If Tsuna could, Enji would be confined in an iceberg for eternity.

Tsuna takes the time to observe the bloody mess and charred skin he’s created—the _scars_ he would leave behind, which can luckily be covered by clothing and make-up. They hardly amount to the pain and suffering the Todorokis were put through, but it’s _something._

“Alright, Enji.” Tsuna pulls out several documents, which had been tucked under the safety of his suit. One of them is labeled _Termination of Parental Rights_. The others are divorce papers. “I want you to sign these.”

“Or else what?” Enji grunts, and Tsuna has to hand it to him—he’s got a lot of fight.

Too bad he’s _scum._

“Or else I reveal what you’ve done.” Tsuna smiles pleasantly. “My sources have gathered enough evidence to land you in jail for life.”

Enji stares at him from the ground. Tsuna smiles even wider. “Surprisingly enough, I don’t want to do that. Aside from what you’ve done to your family, you’ve done pretty well—saved lots of people. You’re a symbol of hope to some. I can’t deprive them of that, or you, for the matter.” Tsuna drives a foot into Enji’s gut. “All you have to do is sign these forms.”

_“You—"_

“What, Enji?” Tsuna asks. “If it’s about your kid with the hybrid quirk, then don’t worry—I’ll ensure he’s trained, and that he won’t run off to become a villain.”

Enji glares. He coughs, blood staining his teeth. “You might mold him into a _vigilante.”_

Tsuna shrugs. “If it happens, it happens. It’ll be the kid’s choice.” If anything, Tsuna will do his best to keep the kid far, far away from unnecessary harm. “Rest assured, the kid will be one of the strongest men to ever grace this planet. He’ll keep your name, and he can even go to U.A. if he wants to.” He shoves the documents—fireproof, of course—and a fountain pen into Enji’s face. “Now, do us both a favour and sign the fucking forms.”

With gritted teeth and indescribable _anger,_ Enji signs the forms.

And Tsuna smiles, the Flame on his forehead burning brighter and brighter.

* * *

When Tsuna arrives back to the suite, forms safely tucked in the confines of his suit, Nara is fast asleep. Reborn isn’t.

Reborn is, as Tsuna instructed, with Nara’s children, getting them to pack so they can all leave within the next few hours. Tsuna was going to join them, or maybe hitch a ride with his Guardians and Nara, but Tsuna doesn’t feel comfortable with leaving the country just yet. He’s got more moles to plant in the city, specifically within Endeavor’s agency.

Tsuna is not a fool, and neither is Endeavor. Endeavor is privy to leave them alone—the man should know _exactly_ what he’s up against—but Tsuna refuses to let his guard down. He told Endeavor he would protect Nara’s kids, after all, including the ones left behind.

Naturally, aside from adding money to their trust funds, Tsuna plans on posting guards. Constant vigilance, and all that.

He laughs a little hysterically to himself.

_So much for a break._

“...Sawada?”

Tsuna turns around. Nara is looking at him with wide eyes.

Oh, right.

His mask. The blood.

“Most of it’s not mine,” Tsuna says, and Nara nods slowly. She hugs herself self-consciously.

“That’s… good.” She shifts uncomfortably. “I probably should have expected this.”

Tsuna scratches the back of his head—oh, bad idea. Now he’s smearing blood all over his hair. “Regretting joining the family already?”

“No.” Tsuna is surprised at the conviction in her tone. “It’s been a long day, is all.” She blinks blearily. Tsuna would have been ushering her back to her room, if not for the blood still staining his hands.

“Go back to sleep,” he says instead. “I’m just going to freshen up.”

“Okay.” Nara manages a tiny smile. “Good night, Sawada.”

“Night, Nara.”

Tsuna listens to the padding of her feet slowly fade. In the darkness of the room, he allows a wide smile to spread across his face.

Break or no break, this trip was worth it.

* * *

When Tsuna arrives back to the Vongola mansion on Sunday, exhausted and in desperate need of a coffee or dozen, he is greeted by Hibari’s unamused stare at the doorway.

“Omnivore,” he says. “Why have you brought home Little Animals?”

Tsuna waves his hand dismissively, then proceeds to dodge a tonfa aimed at his face. “They’re family.” He sends Hibari a stern stare. “They need one.”

“...”

“I wanted to ask you a favour, actually.” Tsuna can already feel the regret creeping up his gut, but damn it he made a promise and he’s going to keep it. “Both kids, especially the youngest— I might need your help to train them.”

“Oh?” Hibari’s smirk is bloodthirsty. “You want me to mold them into carnivores?”

“Something like that,” Tsuna says. “I’ll supervise the lessons.” Hibari’s twisted sense of morals probably wouldn’t let him smack down a couple traumatized children (he’d also referred to them as _Little Animals_ instead of _herbivores,_ which is a good sign), but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful.

“And the payment, omnivore?”

Tsuna drops his duffle bag. “A fight whenever you want. Even if I’m busy doing paperwork, or at a meeting.” He kicks the bag to the side. “Even _now.”_

Hibari’s tonfa swings down on him like judgement from heaven. Tsuna accepts his fate, resigned.

The things he does for his family.

Half an hour into their impromptu spar, Reborn calls out, “Oi! Idiot student! You’re needed inside!”, while Tsuna barely blocks another swing of the tonfa. God, his hands are going to look like prunes after this.

“Gimme a couple minutes!” Tsuna calls out. _“Stand down, Hibari.”_

Hibari’s tonfa lands on his shoulder one more time. Tsuna winces, but manages to catch the second one before it could smack into his forehead.

He’s too tired for this.

Hibari seems to think so too. “You may go, Tsunayoshi.” Hibari flicks his tonfa, blood curdling off. “The carnivore calls for you.”

It’s really, really good to know that Hibari still considers Reborn’s authority higher than Tsuna’s. Really.

“Thanks,” Tsuna says breathlessly, and tumbles into the mansion. He hopes he looks at least a little presentable—he’d left Japan in slacks and a button down shirt, his weapons and other gear safely tucked away elsewhere. It was one of the reasons why he’d struggled a bit to keep up with Hibari, something he would never admit.

Hibari would smite him for not being more prepared.

When he walks into the entrance hall, he is met with the surprised stares of two children, one boy around five years old, the left side of his face noticeably covered with bandages, and the other a girl seven or so years his senior.

Reborn is there too, of course. He’s leering at him, and Tsuna comes up with the safe conclusion that he must look like a hot mess.

What a great first impression he must be setting.

“Children,” Reborn says. “Meet your uncle, Sawada Tsunayoshi.” He pats both both the kids’ heads. They’re surprisingly compliant about it. “He’s my idiot student, a good boss, and an even better family member. You’re safe with him.”

Tsuna tries not to gape.

Wow.

That was surprisingly nice.

“Feel free to call him Dame-Tsuna.”

Nevermind.

“Sawada-sama.” It’s the eldest speaking, head bowed and fidgety. She looks a lot like her mother, aside from the streaks of red in her short hair. “Thank you for welcoming us to your home.”

Tsuna smiles kindly. “Of course. I would have taken in you guys sooner, if I had known—” He abruptly cuts himself off. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

“...is mom here too?” The youngest child—and oh god, those bandages are making Tsuna’s heart clench—tentatively asks. “Reborn-sama said she isn’t in the hospital anymore.”

Tsuna kneels in front of the child. He meets a familiar grey eye. “She’s not. She’s safe here, too, like you are, and you’ll be allowed to see her when our doctors deem her stable.”

Any hesitancy in the boy’s stature completely disappears. “Mom _is_ stable!” The child is indignant, tears welling up in his lone eye. “It’s not her fault! It’s the old man’s!”

“I agree.” Tsuna smiles sadly. “But right now, your mother is really scared of hurting you again.”

The child wilts. His sister squeezes his shoulder comfortingly. “B-but she won’t.”

“Shouto,” the sister gently admonishes. “Sawada-sama just wants to keep us all safe.” She smiles brightly at Tsuna. “Like a hero!”

Shouto perks up. He gives Tsuna a once-over, seemingly looking at him in a new light. “Like… like All Might?”

“Yeah!” The conviction in her eyes makes Tsuna’s stomach churn. “Right, Sawada-sama?”

Tsuna looks down at the newly waxed floor. He can see his reflection, eyes drawn mostly to the blood pouring down his neck and mouth. For once, it’s his own blood.

“Yeah,” he says. “Like a hero.” The children are wide-eyed, admiring, and from the corner of his eye, Tsuna spots Reborn shaking his head in exasperation. He tries not to wince.

 _Like_ a hero. That’s a simile—a simple comparison.

“I’m going to freshen up,” Tsuna says, rising from his kneel. “Rest now, please. You can ask questions later.” After bowing and thanking Tsuna again, they pad up to their newly instated rooms, apparently already settled in.

Once they’re out of sight, Reborn actually chuckles. “Like a hero,” he muses aloud, and Tsuna laughs with him.

After all, on a scale of villain to hero, Sawada Tsunayoshi is definitely smack-dab in the middle.

**Author's Note:**

> probably gonn continue this with drabbles, but dont expect them anytime soon^^


End file.
